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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26493931">The Sweetest Thing</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/devnicole/pseuds/devnicole'>devnicole</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Panther (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 12:00:24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,894</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26493931</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/devnicole/pseuds/devnicole</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Amara has lived in Jabariland her entire life, has a loving family and a successful business. Everything seems to be falling in place for her, yet she constantly feels like something is missing. When she meets Chief M'Baku, she begins to  wonder if he holds the missing piece.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>M'Baku (Marvel) &amp; Original Female Character(s), M'Baku (Marvel) &amp; Reader, M'Baku (Marvel)/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Sweetest Thing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div class="">
<p></p><div class=""><p>The light chime of the front door tore Amara out of her deep meditation as she kneaded the soft dough on her counter to prepare a new batch of pastries. Her kitchen was her personal sanctuary and peace so her head always floated to the clouds once she got in the zone. She sighed in frustration, resigned to the fact that she would never actually finish any of her special orders while the shop was open. </p></div></div><div class="">
  <p>"Be there in a sec," she called brightly, wiping her flour covered hands quickly on a towel nearby. The kitchen area of her quaint bakery did not allow for a clear view of the entrance or counter so she was unable to see which of her regulars stopped by, she knew basically everyone in Gorilla City. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Amara was exhausted, her family bakery was a two person shop. Just her and Eshe, her cousin and best friend who helped run the counter and manage orders. Unfortunately, Eshe came down with a bug over the weekend, leaving Amara to handle the baking and management alone. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Despite her shop being small, it was one of the most popular bakeries in Jabariland, the most popular in Gorilla City. Amara inherited it from her mother, who created every recipe and taught Amara each one. Amara took pride in every pastry, cake, or piece of bread she created. Her mother taught her the importance of pouring passion and love into every dessert she made, which quickly made her shop a tribe staple. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She emerged from the back, staring down at her hands as she tried to wipe more of the flour off, saying, "I am so sorry for the wait. What can I do for you t-today?" her voice trailing off in surprise as she came face to face with the Wakandan Royal Family… or at least, a portion of them. Her eyes widened as her eyes went from Princess Shuri to King T'Challa to Prince Erik? No, Killmonger. No? N’Jadaka? Um, well, Amara didn't quite know what the usurper-turned-forgiven-royal's title was these days.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p><em>Annnnnd this is why we never associated with lowlanders before,</em> she thought to herself. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>And they were accompanied by Chief M'Baku and his little sister. "O-oh Hanuman," she whispered under her breath. "Um, King T'Challa, Princess Shuri, Prince Erik... Lord M'Baku, Lady Malaika," she said politely, greeting the row of Royals standing patiently on the other side of her long pastry display case. She offered them a tentative Wakandan salute, as was proper when addressing the Royal Family. Amara was usually far more confident than this but she had not expected for damn near every royal in Wakanda to stumble into her shop the one week she was drowning.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>It did not help that she knew she did not look appropriate enough to be in front of any of them. Her old tattered and stained black apron, the flour dusting her black clothes and caked on her face. She hadn’t bothered to do much with her long curly hair that morning, pulling it into a mess top puff that took five seconds. She had only gotten a couple glimpses of herself since starting to bake early that morning, trying to keep up with the increase of orders in preparation for the holiday on Friday. But even in passing glances, she knew she did not look well enough for a visit from the Royal Family or the Chief. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"These look amazing," Shuri moaned, her eyes examining all the beautiful pastries and cakes just behind the glass. "Can I have one of everything?" </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Absolutely not. Mama would murder me in my sleep. Pick a couple of things, Shuri and one thing to bring to her." </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Fine, you bore. He hates me," she whispered in Amara's direction though she was still loud enough for her brother to hear. Her lips curled into a smile but she stifled the rising laughter, unsure if she should actually laugh at the King's expense. "What is your most popular thing?" she asked, directing her attention back to Amara who was still stuck and shocked to find them all in her small bakery. Amara blinked a few times, taking a moment to officially catch her stride after being thrown off course.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Um, the mandazis are delicious, those usually sell pretty quickly," she started to list, sliding back into her usual confident self as she pointed at a display of golden brown puff pastries coated in powdered sugar. "The cookies are really popular,” she pointed at a dish of gorilla-shaped cookies. “The lime cake is pretty popular and of course, the universal staples are tribe favorites," her nails tapped the intricate glass cake stand that held a tall 4 layer chocolate cake. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>This interaction went on for a few more minutes as Shuri asked about every pastry available. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"My apologies Lord M'Baku and Miss?" T'Challa examined her expectantly with a soft smile. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"O-oh Amara, your highness. Just Amara.” She straightened up instinctively, a more serious look on her face as she addressed the King. She had never actually seen him in person before. She, of course, heard about the incident that brought his almost-dead body to Jabariland months prior but she was far removed from the issues of royalty. Having only stories and gossip to inform her about him, she noted that one thing was clearly true: he was quite handsome.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes. Amara. My apologies. Lord M'Baku was gracious enough to take us on a tour of the shops and markets and my sister here... has a persistent sweet tooth. She can sniff out a bakery from miles away," T'Challa explained as he watched Shuri patiently. His words signaled slight annoyance at his sister's antics but none of that showed in his face, just the love of an older sibling. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"She greedy... that's the problem," Erik mumbled, loud enough for all to hear. His American accent was jarring to Amara, who had never heard one outside of movies and television shows. His snide remarks earned him some eye rolls from the rest of the group. Amara was surprised at his sense of humor, expecting the man who tried to murder the king to be more uptight. He was relaxed, perched in one of the chairs at a high table, casually scrolling on what looked like a small tablet.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"It is no trouble at all. We are all happy to have you all in Jabariland," Amara responded politely as she boxed up Shuri's choices and placed them in a bag. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"What is your role in the tribe? Your family?" the King asked, as he looked around the bakery walls, which were covered in family photos. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"O-oh my father is a woodsmith, my king. He owns a shop a bit further into the market." </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Not just any woodsmith, the tribe's best,” Malaika interjected. “D'Kar makes and carves most of our knobkerries. He carved brother's and mine. Brother, we should take them by there to meet him,” Malaika grinned at Amara’s surprised expression, “I am in training with your younger sister, Neema. She is quite nice, I fought her today. She is very good, I enjoy spending time with her at the training center." </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Ah of course, Yes. She speaks highly of you as well," Amara responded with a smile. Malaika and Neema were quite a lot alike. She could see a world in which they would be best friends, if her sister was not such an introverted girl. Unlike her older sister, who was the social butterfly when she was in training and school, Neema struggled to make friends. It seemed to bother Amara more than Neema who quite enjoyed being alone.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Brother, can I get one?" Malaika asked sweetly, looking up at the stoic giant who had yet to utter a word or crack a smile since walking in. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"One," he whispered in his deep baritone. She honestly forgot the chief was even in the room, as he stood quietly in the back. She offered him a smile as their eyes met, it was not returned. But that was not surprising. While M’Baku was a respected and good leader, he was not known for his kindness. She continued to feel his eyes on her as she turned to prepare his sister’s slice of cake. Despite being a Jabari, she only ever saw M'Baku from a distance or at official events. She was a few years younger than him so they missed each other in training and school. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Silence fell over the group as she started to box up her sister's cake. She almost felt exposed, like there were lasers on her as she worked. But  she would soon realize why. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Damn, nigga. Can you stare at her any harder?" Amara thanked Bast that her face was turned away from them so they could not see the way it twisted in embarrassment. She could hear Shuri and T’Challa’s quiet reprimands, though they were clearly trying to whisper. She pulled her face back into a smile and turned around, catching the tail end of a deathly glare between M’Baku and Erik. She busied herself by handing Malaika her box. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"How much?" M'Baku muttered. Amara couldn’t tell but it almost seemed like he was embarrassed, the way he now actively avoided looking at her directly. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"No need," she waved him away. "It is merely an honor to have you all here. Princess Shuri, if you are back in Jabariland, perhaps you will let me know what you thought?" </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Shuri looked up, her mouth coated in sugar and pushed out, "I definitely will be back! These are better than any bakery in the city. Do you deliver?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Amara's smile could have lit the mountains as she got high praise from a new customer. She was used to hearing nice things from her regulars in the tribe. She rarely got a new customer anymore since there were never new people, except children, in Jabariland. It just reaffirmed her craft and abilities to hear it from someone new.. "No, not yet, unfortunately. Sorry,” she offered, laughing lightly at the despondent expression on her face. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Let us go, Shuri. We have taken up more than enough of M’Baku and Malaika’s time. Thank you again, Miss Amara,” King T’Challa’s arms raised in a salute, which she mimicked with ease. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You all have a great rest of your tour." She smiled as they filed out of the door, M'Baku holding it open. However, he did not exit after Erik, instead he turned to face her again. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"You said your name was Amara?" he asked, his body stradling the threshold of the door. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>"Yes, Chief M’Baku." </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He nodded softly with a small smile on his lips, before saying, "Good to know." </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Amara stared at the door as it slid shut, as confused as ever. What in Hanuman’s name just happened? </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>****</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Baba!” Amara yelled as she let herself into her father’s cottage. “Neema?” She slid off her snow-covered boots and jacket before heading directly to the family kitchen. Despite her mother being gone for over five years, her father had not changed one thing. The house looked exactly the same, a time capsule from when her mother was living and taking care of everything. She was surprised at her father’s ability to keep the place this pristine, especially with his long work hours. But she knew he did it partially to honor her mother, who was strict about keeping things a certain way. She placed the fresh loaves of bread on the counter and meandered back to her father’s workshop. She inhaled the savory smells of fresh vegetable soup on the stove, made by her sister, she knew. Her father could maintain a house but he was a lousy cook.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Despite being home from work, it was not a shocker to find D’Kar still in his home workshop carving after hours. He would carve nonstop if his aging hands allowed it. This older age did limit how long he could carve but it did not diminish the quality. Only he and few other men in the tribe had his level of skill with Jabari wood, skill that took many years to practice. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Baba,” she called softly, a smile on her face as she leaned against the door frame and watched him work.</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My girl!” He finished the last Jabari symbol on a walking staff before standing to wrap his eldest daughter in a tight hug. “How was your day?” He studied her closely, noting the exhaustion on her face. D’Kar was proud of his daughter but he felt she worked too much, worked too hard for someone her age. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Busy, Eshe is out sick so I am pulling double duty for the next couple days,” she waved away his concerns before sitting on a stool across from him so he could continue working. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Ah, I am sure the day was made all the more busy with a visit from the Chief and the Royal Family.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“They came by your shop too?” she asked. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yep! The young one, Shuri? She mentioned that they had stopped at your bakery. Couldn’t stop talking about it. Asked me to convince you to pack up and open up shop in the Golden City.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Amara laughed, “And leave Jabariland? Leave you?” she asked, sitting down on one of the stools across from him. “I could never, baba.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>D’Kar halted his carving for a moment, looking up from the walking staff to his daughter. “The Golden City wouldn’t be so bad. Now with the tribes reunited, maybe a change of scenery would be good for you, eh?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Good for me?” Amara’s nose wrinkled up in confusion. “Where is this coming from? You hate the lowlanders?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Yes, I do. But that does not mean you have to. You are young, Amara. Shouldn’t waste your years taking care of your sister and I. You should be living your life, having fun. It is what I want for you, what Neema wants for you… what she would want for you too.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Amara turned her head away from her father, the back of her eyes stinging lightly at the mention of her mother. Her death… her absence was still a sore subject in this house. “I-I’m gonna check on Neema, yes? Things will calm down next week and I-I can cook a few nights a week again so Neema isn’t doing everything. I’ll swing back by before I leave. I put some fresh loaves on the counter by the way.” She slid off the high stool and exited her father’s workshop quickly, barely looking at him as she went. She shook her head, as if that would rid it of all the negative thoughts swirling around, and headed upstairs to her sister’s bed room. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Her sister’s long braids covered her face as she jotted down something in a small notebook. Amara watched Neema write with intensity. For her, writing was like baking, it took her to another world. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Amara flopped down on her sister’s bed, earning her attention and an annoyed look. “How is the world’s greatest future author doing?” She inquired as she stretched out across the bed. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She is tired and trying to finish this with no distractions,” Neema responded, tapping her pen against her sister’s forehead gently. Amara’s eyes scrunched up as she laughed. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Fine, fine.” She pushed herself to a seated position and moved to the edge of the bed. “It is late anyway so I am not staying long. Just told baba I would check in on you. How was training?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Painful as usual… fought against Lady Malaika today. She is good, left a few bruises. But we both won once so we got high marks.” She lifted her light sweatshirt to show a darkening bruise along her side. Amara whistled, she certainly did not miss her training days. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That is going to be worse tomorrow. You need to put ice on it. Also, why don’t you hang out with Lady Malaika? She seems nice, spoke very highly of you.” She poked her clearly annoyed sister in her unbruised side as she spoke. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“When did you talk to her?” she questioned, her voice filled with speculation and a hint of anxiety, that also showed through her fidgeting with the corner of her notebook paper. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“She came into the shop with the Royals and her brother. She said you were nice and she liked training with you. She is a sweetheart…. You should hang out with her, she seems like she could be a new friend if you just put yourself out there.” Amara stood up and started to walk toward the door. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“We all can’t be you, Amara.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“No, you can be better.” She winked before turning to head out the door and back to her own home for the night. “Ice your side and start a damn fire in here, I mean for Hanuman’s sake.. It is freezing in here and getting sick will not get you out of training.” Amara ducked as a pillow came wheezing toward her head. “Night Neema.” The two childishly stuck their tongues out at each other before she bounded down the stairs to say goodnight to her baba and head home. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>*****</p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>High up on Gorilla Mountain, another Jabari was fulfilling his big brother duties, training with his sister before bed. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Harder Malaika! What is up with you today?” M’Baku demanded, straightening his strong and long legs out of his battle stance to address his sister, who looked like she was moments away from the Ancestral Cliffs. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Sorry, brother. You know that woman at the bakery? I fought her sister today. She fought almost as hard as you do. I actually lost a battle to her,” she said, tone as if she still couldn’t believe it even hours later. “She is really nice, off the training mats, at least. Can we just call it a night? I am tired.” She quickly turned on her puppy dog eyes, the one thing she knew her overprotective brother simply could not say no to. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>He rolled his eyes, “You know you cannot stop fighting in battle simply because something hurts eh? You fight until there is nothing left in you.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Is there a war coming tomorrow that I don’t know about??” she asked sarcastically, looking from left to right as if an entire army was going to swarm the Lodge’s training center. “I think I will be ok if I cut one training session short, Lord Tyrant.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>M’Baku rolled his eyes at her, deciding to just let it go and let her get some rest. Despite having guards whose sole purpose was to escort his rambunctious sister around Jabariland, he always walked her back from their nightly training sessions. It was their only time to bond with no distractions.  </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“That baker from today? You liked her?” Malaika asked quietly as they walked, their guards, or shadows as she called them, quietly trailing behind them. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>M’Baku’s barking laugh filled the quiet dark halls of the Lodge, “Like her? I hardly spoke to her. I don’t even remember her name.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>A mischievous smile crossed his sister’s face. <em>Oh this is going to be fun. </em>“Well, that is true. She was quite nice though. And Anika is a beautiful name.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“It was Amara,” he corrected her immediately, already forgetting the lie he told 5 seconds prior. Maliaka immediately burst into laughter. M’Baku could also hear a few snickers behind him as their guards overheard their conversation. One pointed glare and those laughs ended abruptly. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“You are such a bad liar. You like her, just admit it. You thought she was pretty.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Eh and what of it?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“For a chief, you are pretty stupid sometimes, you know that right? Maybe they should make me chief? I am clearly the brains behind this operation. Ask her out. Court her. She is gorgeous, accomplished, her family is well-respected in the city. She is perfect for you.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>M’Baku shook his head. His sister raised some good points, as she always did, even if they were marred with insults. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since they left that bakery. He had plans to go back there tomorrow just to see her again, but he would never tell Malaika that. “I do not have time to date. I only have room for one lady in my life these days.” His elbow nudged her gently as they rounded the corner and stopped in front of her room. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Malaika rolled her eyes as she opened the door to her private chambers. She leaned against the frame as she looked at her brother, the man who gave up most of his young adult years to be chief and take care of her. Her joking tone melted away as the feelings of guilt seeped in. She tried to shake it off, the guilt of being a burden that she felt… well always. “Well, this lady thinks you have more than enough time for a girlfriend. The Council is trying to push any woman with a pulse into your arms. Might as well try with someone you actually like. I am just saying,” she threw her hands up in surrender, “There is more than enough room for two ladies in this palace. Goodnight, brother.” The two hugged before she retreated into her room and raced over to her side table. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>She pulled out a couple pieces of paper and jotted down two quick letters. Malaika read over them quickly before nodding in satisfaction. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Jahari!” she called, her shadow immediately poking his head into her room. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“My lady?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“I need a big favor,” she said sweetly, turning on her youthful charm to get the guard to break a few protocol rules for her. “Can you deliver these to the night guards and see to it that they were delivered by the morning?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jahari sighed, “My lady, you know I am not allowed to leave your door until morning. This cannot wait?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“The future of Jabariland… the life of your chief is at stake. Surely that outweighs any silly rules my overprotective brother gave right?” At Jahari’s raised eyebrow, she tried a new tactic. “Look, if anyone sees you gone and gives you a hard time, I will just tell them I felt ill and you went to fetch me medicine. How about that? Please, please please please pleaseeeeee?” she begged. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Fine, fine. But if I lose my head, I will be forced to haunt you,” he warned. “Can I ask you why these are so important?” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“One is for Femi, the Lodge event planner and the second is for my dressmaker. Just need some last minute things before the Winter Festival Ball on Saturday.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Jahari snorted, “Yea right. Whatever mischief you are planning, I want to be as far away from it as possible.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>Malaika laughed, “Oh I think everyone around here will enjoy this bout of mischief. Trust me.” </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Lock the door behind me and do not open it for anyone. I will knock three times to let you know when I return. Deal?” Jahari was not a rule breaker but Maliaka reminded him so much of his own sister so he gave her as much leeway as he could. </p>
</div><div class="">
  <p>“Thank you!” she followed him to the door, immediately locking it behind him. She slumped against it, a content smile on her face. <em>Let the fun begin. </em></p>
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